


Two Years Later

by sher_locked_22



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Break Up, I suck at tags, Just read, Love, M/M, Things will get better I promise, You need to read closely to catch my drift, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7433897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sher_locked_22/pseuds/sher_locked_22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock's fall, Greg Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes had started a relationship. Then abruptly Mycroft had ended it. </p>
<p>**** </p>
<p>Takes place when Sherlock comes back from the "dead". More chapters will be added later, as well as tags and relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contemplation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I would appreciate any feedback that you can give me. I'm very nervous for this, and am thinking about making this into multiple chapters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg gets a surprise visit.

What if things had been different? 

Greg snorts to himself. Things couldn’t be different. Sherlock had jumped off a building, John was covering up his emotions with a girl, and his relationship with Mycroft had crumbled. 

He let his head hang. Mycroft. 

After everything that had happened with his wife, Greg was so sure that this relationship would be different. Both of the men were absolute workaholics, so there would be no real issue over one man working too late or having to miss a few dates. Security wouldn’t be an issue with Greg because he understood how important Mycroft’s job was. 

It was the perfect relationship. After Sherlock’s jump, he and Mycroft had sought comfort in each other. Mycroft had made the first move at the funeral, very quietly telling the detective inspector that if he needed to talk about anything, he knew someone. Greg had surprised him by saying that he didn’t want to talk to a professional, but rather Mycroft. 

It started slowly – tea every once in a while, maybe a small visit to one another’s offices. But then without each man knowing, it progressed into something further. Tea in a small café turned into lunch, lunch turned into dinner, dinners turned into secluded meals cooked at Mycroft’s home. 

Greg was the first to initiate kissing, and Mycroft the first to hesitantly approach the idea of sex. 

Almost two years had gone by since Sherlock’s fall when the elder Holmes abruptly ended the relationship with a phone call while he was abroad. He hadn’t told Greg where he was going, just that he would be out of the country for a while. Then two days later Greg had woken up to a voicemail letting him know his relationship was over. 

Greg lifted his head up, looking around the parking garage. No one was around, so he presumed he could have a cigarette or two. Shifting around his jacket he pulled one out, and went to go light it. Suddenly, a deep baritone voice startled him from behind. 

“Those things will kill you.” 

Frozen to the spot, Greg couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way that it could be the famous consulting detective from years ago. Taking a deep breath and pulling the cigarette from his mouth. 

“Oh, you bastard.”


	2. The Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg visits Mycroft at his office after Sherlock's return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> First off, thank you to everyone who is bothering to read this! This is my form of therapy as I am very sick right now, and all the comments and kudos and reads makes me so happy. It truly fuels my want to write this story. 
> 
> Secondly, please do not hesitate to give me feedback of any sort! I know the chapters are short, but they will get longer soon, I promise!

The door banged open. Mycroft didn’t even bother to look up from his paperwork. He knew who was standing in the doorway. He knew that this would happen sooner or later. Steeling himself, he managed to get out an undetectable sigh.

“Gregory.”

“Don’t you dare try to ‘Gregory’ me, Mycroft! What the hell is this?!”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Detective Inspector.”

“Don’t pull that either! You helped him. You let me mourn the loss of your brother without saying a word to me!”

Mycroft slowly looked up, and felt his heart break. As he looked into his eyes, it became apparent that caring really wasn’t an advantage. Gregory’s face was twisted in anger, hurt, and betrayal, with tears welling up at the corner of his eyes. Seeing those emotions made Mycroft’s stomach turn.

_I love him so much._

But it didn’t matter now. He had ended the relationship, knowing it would be irreparable after his brother’s return. “I understand you’re upset about Sherlock,” he stated. “But it was done to protect you.”

“What was, My? The fact that you lied to me, or Sherlock’s jump off a damn bloody roof?”

Greg was now pacing around, hands running though his hair and tugging occasionally.

“What I did has no bearing on the situation itself.”

“Like hell it does! We were in a relationship, Mycroft!”

“Yes, and said relationship has been terminated, if you remember correctly.”

Turning to look at Mycroft, tears were now freely running down Greg’s face. The former knew what he said was wrong and hurtful; his own heart clenched just in memory of the immense pain he had been in making the phone call to Greg. He had done it when he knew Greg would be asleep as to not have to deal with hearing the elder man’s emotions.

“Mycroft.”

“Yes?”

Greg now stalked to the front of Mycroft’s desk, resting his hands on the smooth mahogany surface. “I know why you ended our relationship, My.”

“Why is that, Inspector? And please do refrain from using an abbreviated version of my name.”

Greg took a sudden step back as though he had been shocked. He paused, and Mycroft could visibly see him steel for whatever words he was about to hurl at Mycroft. “You are a coward. You didn’t want to face the fact that you lied to me for our entire relationship, allowing me to pretend that Sherlock was dead. You didn’t have enough faith in our relationship to even think for a minute that it could survive what you have done.”

“No, Detective Inspector. I know what I did, and that was only exactly what I needed to do. I also came to the conclusion that I was no longer in love with a divorced detective.”

The tears stopped from Greg’s face in apparent anger. “You liar. How many nights did you lay in bed with me, stroking my face and telling me how much you loved me? How you couldn’t believe that you had found someone?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I. Do. Not. Love. You.” Mycroft made sure to punctuate each word, knowing that it was hurting Gregory slowly.

Greg turned his back to him slowly and walked to the door. He stopped in the frame, straining his head back just slightly so that he could see Mycroft out of his peripheral vision. “I love you, Mycroft.” With that, he closed the door softly as he made his exit.

To Mycroft, that was even worse than a slam.


	3. One Week Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys lay awake, in pain and thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still reading, and still encouraging me. It means the world to me. 
> 
> Updates will be daily, if not twice a day. I write as it all comes to me!

Laying in the bed staring at the ceiling wasn’t the best cure for a broken heart. Greg knew this. After all, he had been through it before with his ex-wife.

A week had gone by since he saw Mycroft. Yet Greg hadn’t been able to get his brain to function properly. Yes, he got up to go to work, did his job, and came home. But it wasn’t the same.

He knew that he wasn’t as smart as the Holmes brothers. Not dumb, but not scary intelligent either. It was the one sentence Greg was always sure would accurately describe him.

But when he was with Mycroft, he just felt… _better._ He felt as if he could conquer anything. Before, seeing a mother stabbed and her little girl sobbing next to her would keep Greg up at all hours of the night. But with Mycroft, he could merely walk out of his office and into waiting, welcoming arms and muttered reassurances. He didn’t have to face the night alone. He was protected by the scent of his lover and the warmth of his heart radiating off of him.  

God, he sounded like a heartbroken teenage girl.

In reality though, that’s what he was. _Heartbroken, not a teenage girl_ , he thought ruefully.

Turning over onto his side, he reached for his phone. _This is a bloody dumb thing to do._ Yet he was doing it anyways. He had been doing it for the past six days; the seventh wouldn’t be any different.

The voicemail rang out of the speaker. _“You have one saved voicemail. Press one to play, and zero to delete.”_

Greg chose option one with a shaky hand. Putting the phone on speaker, he set it on the pillow next to his head.

_“Hello Gregory. I regret to inform you that I can no longer proceed with our…relationship. Recently it has become apparent that I was lacking in judgement two years ago due to my brother’s death. Caring is not an advantage, and I have learned that throughout the course of having your company in my life. Leave my key within an envelope and place it in your mailbox for Anthea to pick up. I am not in the country and do not have time. Please do not contact me. Thank you.”_

The message ended with a click.  

 

*****

 

Lying in bed staring at the ceiling wasn’t going to solve Mycroft’s broken heart. He knew that.

Since his breakup with Gregory, he had started noticing just how truly bland his life was without a middle aged detective in it. Wake up, go to work, deal with lesser minds, come home, do more work, and fall in to bed.

There was no laughter. No smiles when he walked in the door because Gregory had already used his key to get in. Moving in was something they had started discussing towards the end, but not something that could be planned out before Sherlock’s return.

Mycroft had been living in a world of deceit for the past two years. This is what he deserved. Punishment in the form of having the love of his life ripped away from him.

It seemed he had skipped all the early signs of depression and landed himself smack in the middle.

 _I love him so much,_ his brain supplied, not for the first time today, not for the first time that week.

_Caring is not an advantage. It only leads to a pain more ferocious than death._

_I am a fool._

Mycroft rolled onto his side, the thoughts continuing to come.

A single tear rolled down his cheek as he slipped asleep. 


	4. A Concerned Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Greg have a conversation about the breakup of Mystrade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!   
> First off, I am terribly sorry that I haven't been posting! I had a lot of ideas for where this chapter could go, and struggled to write it. Also, I've been having some health issues and haven't been up for writing recently.   
> That being said, I know this is (again) a short chapter. Will the chapters get any longer? Maybe, maybe not. I like writing out one scene and then sleeping on it and figuring out where to head next. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who keeps commenting, sending kudos, and reading this story!

_I am fine. I can do this._

It was the day after Greg had cried himself to sleep, and he looked a wreck. Dark circles had formed around his red, puffy eyes, and he was sure that he was flushed.

Unfortunately, after Sherlock had solved a case for him a day ago ( _and without John,_ his brain added) he needed the man to come in and help him finish paperwork.

Walking into his office, he noticed Sherlock was already there, sitting quietly in front of his desk. As he moved to sit in his chair, he noticed that the detective was looking almost as bad as he was.

“So, I take it you and John are still not on good terms?”

Sherlock looked up. “Can we just get this over with Gavin?”

“It’s _GREG!_ ”

“Yes, yes, whatever. You aren’t in any better shape, it would seem. Stayed up until 4 a.m. last night, couldn’t finish your dinner, and added approximately 15 minutes to your shower this morning. And all because of my brother.”

“Oi! Piss off!” Greg pointed at him. “We will not be talking about that. Now, can we please move forward with the paperwork? I don’t want to be doing this either, Sherlock.”

“…he misses you, you know.”

Greg looked up startled. “What do you mean?”

Smirking, Sherlock stated, “I thought we weren’t talking about this.”

“Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Yes. He keeps coming over to my flat.”

“He always did that, Sherlock.”

Sherlock gave him a pointed look that clearly said, _Are you going to shut up and listen, or can I move on?_ “I know that, Detective. However, it’s been every day since you went to see him at his office. Not only that, but he looks a mess, and his mind is suffering. He forgot his umbrella yesterday.”

Stopping at that, Greg and Sherlock just stared at each other. They knew the poignant significance to the umbrella – of how it came from his grandfather, who was involved in the government and was Mycroft’s inspiration. He was the entire _reason_ Mycroft went into politics.

“Sherlock, I know you don’t like having your brother around, and I’m sorry to hear that he’s not doing well. But the fact of the matter is this: your brother ended our relationship. Even if he hadn’t, how would I be able to forgive him for all the lying he did to me?”

Looking down, Sherlock just whispered, “He did it for me.”

“…And he should’ve done it for me, too.”


End file.
